


These Dreams

by totilott



Series: A Groovy Kind of Love [4]
Category: DCU (Comics), Justice League International (Comics)
Genre: 1980s, Denial of Feelings, Heavy Petting, M/M, Time Travel, Wet Dream, oooh which one is it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2020-03-01 00:15:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18789157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/totilott/pseuds/totilott
Summary: Beetle is having the weirdest dream.





	These Dreams

It’s a strange dream.

It begins as Ted finds himself in a dark ancient hall, and somehow he knows it’s a burial chamber, knows he's deep inside a pyramid. There are strange hieroglyphics on the wall, glowing, glittering the darkness, and he can't read them. Dan would know, Dan knew hieroglyphics.

The shimmering hieroglyphics start changing, melting together, and Ted waits for them to turn into words he can read, waits for the secret to be revealed. Instead they flow together like plasticine and start to look more like a face, looking back at him. The face turns out to be Dan's, and Ted wants to ask him to read the hieroglyphics, but the hieroglyphics are gone.

The face shifts, morphing on, suddenly looking like his dad (the old bastard), then Max Lord, then his uncle Jarvis, his former fiancée Melody, then Booster, Tora, Murray -- more faces, changing faster and faster until they're all a blur, going by so fast he can only vaguely recognize features in flashes, an upper lip, a familiar nose, an eye.

He blinks, and it's still an eye, only an eye, huge in the darkness, accusing, staring him down. He tries to back away from the wall, from the glassy unblinking eye, but it shoots forward, following him through the room. Not only following, getting closer and closer and bigger and

Ted shudders, shying away from the nightmare, mind bobbing slightly closer to consciousness and back down.

In this dream he feels warm, enveloped, wound in reams of warm golden velvet, supported. Secure.

It’s a much nicer dream.

As he's weightlessly floating (Over what? The city?), packed securely in softness, the velvet starts to shift, endless reams brushing against him, creating sweet warmth against his skin without running out, without letting him go. He gently squirms, enjoying the feeling, the endless fabric changing shape. Like there are gentle hands underneath. Holding him, caressing him through the golden velvet.

Floating, safe, with velvet hands lovingly stroking his chest and stomach, pressing sweetly against his back, tickling his neck. Hands that work themselves underneath his T-shirt, brushing lightly over his chest hair, trailing up his clavicle and down again to squeeze and stroke, before lightly pinching a nipple.

Ted sighs, gently arching his back in appreciation as soft fingertips trail over his skin, down his stomach, making him arch his back further to meet the sweet touch, the fingers teasing along the elastic waistband of his pajama pants.

As a questing hand pushes further, beneath the waistband, between his legs, there's the sensation of soft lips kissing his neck, his shoulder. The hand finds his hardening cock and wraps around it, making him tremble and sigh. He hears a soft groan in his ear, feels hot breath tickling the hairs on his neck, hears his name whispered in a voice so low and familiar.

And that’s what jolts him upright.

“Booster?!” His voice is hoarse and seems to come from somewhere outside himself.

His sight is blurry but in the pale light of the moon he can just about see the metallic glimmer of the gold and blue costume, except... It looks different, weirdly different but still familiar hidden there in the dark, pieces that should be there aren't, new things are added where they shouldn't be.

But details shift and change in dreams.

“Booster, what the hell are you doing?” he slurs, lips and tongue dry and not quite working, knowing that’s a useless question, something you say in real life.

“I’m sorry," Booster replies softly. "I didn’t mean to startle you.” A voice so similar to his real voice, yet just a tiny bit deeper, a fraction more hoarse.

Vaguely frustrated by the details shifting, changing in the darkness, Ted turns and reaches over for the button on his nightstand lamp. His finger hovers over it for a moment as he wonders what he might see once the light is on.

Weird enough he should have one of these dreams about _Booster_ , but illuminated, things might shift and change again, someone else's face might be there. It could be, who knows, J’onn’s. Or President Reagan’s. Or Oberon’s.

Oh God, he really doesn’t want a wet dream about Oberon.

But now that he’s thought it he feels certain that’s absolutely what’s going to happen.

He turns on the light with clenched teeth, mouth working a little more now, and turns back to the figure sitting on the edge of his bed.

Blonde hair, golden eyelashes, tan skin. No, it’s definitely Booster. Ted breathes a sigh of relief, and then frowns at himself. _So Booster’s your best case scenario, Ted?_ he thinks. _A lot to unpack here._

Booster isn’t wearing his cowl and goggles, his hair (just a bit too long, the hairline just a fraction further back) falling into his eyes (eye in the pyramid, following, following). He looks tired.

“Have you been crying?” Ted asks suddenly, studying the slight puffiness around his eyes, the red tinge on his nose.

Booster turns away and raises a palm to roughly wipe his own cheek. “Nah, I’m just--” He takes a shuddering breath. “I’m just having a bit of a hard time, you know? Back there?" He smiles weakly. "So I thought I’d pop back in time and have, you know, a few laughs with you.” He pulls his ungloved fingers through his hair, a gesture so undeniably Booster, even in the dream.

“Oh, yeah, like..." Ted yawns, mind still cobwebby, thoughts still blurred. "Time travel,” he states flatly. _So this is what we're doing now._ Figures, you befriend a guy from the future your subconscious will want to dig into that.

He looks this time traveling Booster over and tells himself in this dream he must be dealing with Booster from Booster's own time, original time, in the future (25th Century? 35th? Just numbers).

His mind feels like it's slowly stacking one thought on top of another, trying to work something out. The result becomes: _Though that should make Booster look younger, not older_. Ted studies his dream friend again, waiting for Booster’s face to suddenly de-age from one moment to another. It doesn’t.

“A-and, well," Booster stutters. "I should have checked the time of day but I didn't and then I came here and you were sleeping and I didn’t really, didn't really think.” Booster is rubbing his folded hands together, looking down at them. Then he turns to Ted again with those big, earnest eyes. “I really didn’t mean to scare you, Ted.”

“No, it’s fine,” Ted replies, rubbing his eyes. (He calls him Ted, not Beetle, in the dream). “I was just --" He yawns again. None of this matters, none of this makes sense. "You just surprised me, that’s all.”

"I'm sorry," Booster looks down at his hands again. “So, um. Where is _now_ me tonight?” Booster asks with a gentle smile.

Ted looks at him for a moment, not understanding. “Oh, _now_ you?” _Weird dream, what a weird dream._ “I think, uh,” He can say anything, it doesn’t matter, real life is so far away. “Comm duty, maybe? Or you’re sleeping.”

"Mm." Booster turns back to him, an apologetic grin on his face. “I’m sorry, junebug, I know this always throws you for a loop.”

“Uh-huh.” _Just go with it._

Booster shuffles closer. The bed shifts. “I just... I wanted to see you.” He leans in. Lidded, blue eyes softly gazing through a fringe of golden eyelashes.

_Just go with it, just go with it. It doesn't matter._

“And I saw you there in bed and I just,” his voice is deep and soft with just a hint of that unfamiliar hoarseness to it. “I want you so bad, Ted.”

Booster’s soft hand cradles Ted’s face, his hot breath against his lips before Booster closes the distance, lips warm and wet and a tongue that meets his own and Ted keenly aware that he's still hard, erection pressing against the fabric of his pants and it feels so real, it feels so _REAL_ and _why the hell am I having this dream what is wrong with me that I should imagine my best buddy like this what does this say about me I'm not even_

Ted tears himself away, gasping for breath, and even if it’s a dream, just a dream out of his control and it doesn't matter in the slightest, all the same he can’t bear to look at Booster. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he mutters, hands hiding his face. “This isn’t -- this is just too weird right now, I don’t know why I --”

He can feel dream Booster looking at him, feel the weight of him in his bed (his _bed_ ), sense the air of confusion in the room, the chaos.

“Oh shit,” Booster mutters.

Ted pulls both hands through his hair and sits like that, gripping his own curls, face hidden from Booster. “I just don’t _understand_ ,” he groans, mostly to himself.

Booster stands up with a jolt, the bed bouncing from the sudden change in weight. “Oh shit, what year is this?”

Ted looks up, confused, his face burning, even if it’s just a dream. Just a dream.

“I’m so sorry,” Booster says, pulling his fingers through his hair. “I’m _so_ sorry Ted, this wasn’t supposed to -- _shit,_ ” he mutters darkly once more and there's flash of light and...

Ted is alone in his room. Sitting up in his bed. In the dark. Alone, alone. No sound except the sound of his own labored breathing, a thing that's both reassuring and strangely frustrating, His body seems hot and cold at the same time.

He falls heavily down on his side in the bed, legs pulled up, and draws his blanket tighter around himself, trying to ignore his erection pressing against the fabric of his pajama pants. Just wanting to sleep, to sleep without any dreams at all.

In the morning he wakes up, dimly horny and ashamed.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so happy time shenanigans allows me to write asides like this. Shout-out to various central characters from the eighties' solo run in the beginning there that never ever were brought up in continuity again.
> 
> Also, reminder that it's my story, so I know for a fact Ted doesn't die, that's not what future Booster (if it's really happening? Oooh~) is sad about. Don't worry, I got this.
> 
>  **[Song:](https://open.spotify.com/user/tilly_stratford/playlist/4SqomvmhyncWPEAobYUZ88?si=DNXWufsLSs29KqRywW2U9A)**  
>  These Dreams - Heart


End file.
